


A Daydream Believer And Homecoming Queen

by questceque_cest



Category: Glee
Genre: Accidents, F/M, Female Friendship, High School, Male Friendship, Prom, Prom Proposal, Wheelchairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questceque_cest/pseuds/questceque_cest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1mikxq2BN1qcyxtio1_500.jpg">this photo</a>, with the help of their good friend Mercedes, Artie asks Quinn to her Senior Prom</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Daydream Believer And Homecoming Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [el_em_en_oh_pee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/gifts).



> The title is taken from The Monkee's "Daydream Believer".

Artie tapped his pen against his desk, his eyes unfocused on the blackboard in front of him.  On a normal day fifth period algebra was pleasantly uninformative and boring, but today there was a substitute who actually taught the class; the absolute _worst_ kind of substitute.  
  
He glanced across his empty page of notes and his textbook turned to the wrong page, and surveyed the classroom.  Tina, in the island of desks next to him, had her head down on her arms and was doing an exceptionally poor job hiding the fact that she was fast asleep.  The desk in front of her that Puck normally occupied was empty -- they _did_ have a substitute, after all.  Blaine in the front was furiously scribbling down notes, fingers wildly mashing buttons on his calculator.    
  
The arm that was propped up against his chin slid forward with a jerk.  The girl sitting next to him nudged his elbow, her eyes glaring on the pen he was tapping.  He flashed her an apologetic look and shifted his gaze to the board.  
  
 _Ugh, I don’t care about any of this_. Artie turned his head and looked out the door into the hall. On the front of the door hung a bright green poster displaying a cartoon dinosaur with the caption “WMHS 2012 Senior Prom. It’ll be Dino-Mite!” written underneath.  
  
He snorted to himself and stared up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused in thought.    
  
 _Prom_.  
  
After last year’s fiasco, he was excited to actually spend a prom out on the dance floor and not trapped, scared senseless, in Sue Sylvester’s office.  All he wanted was to spend one of his proms with a girl he liked; he already had his corsage order placed. His plans weren’t going to fail this year; they were absolutely foolproof. He was _going_ to prom with Quinn Fabray no matter what.  
  


***

  
The once-vast halls of McKinley High seemed much narrower to Quinn in the wake of her accident.  It has been challenging enough for her to travel around her house in a wheelchair, but maneuvering through the sea of students was proving to be a more difficult endeavor.  Formerly simple tasks had escalated into monumental ventures.  
  
Quinn rolled down the crammed hall toward her locker at the end of the day’s final period, receiving a sharp glare every so often as she ran over someone’s toes.  
 __  
How can Artie do this for the last three years? I feel like giving up after three weeks.  There’s no way I could be like him.  
  
Unfortunately for her, she had a top shelf locker, so she needed assistance retrieving her books.  This afternoon it was Mercedes who walked alongside Quinn through McKinley, sparing no harsh words for those who gawked at the already self-conscious Quinn.  
  
They arrived at Quinn’s locker and Mercedes dialed the combination.  Quinn looked up to a sea of posters plastered across the tops of the lockers, all proudly displaying her smiling face with the caption “Vote Quinn Fabray for Prom Queen” underneath.  She scoffed at her fake smile and emotionless eyes.  
  
 _How ironic_ , she thought. _I actually have a chance at becoming Queen this year from the pity votes I’ll be sure to earn._  
  
“Hey, girl, what’s this?”  
  
Mercedes’ question snapped Quinn from her thoughts. She looked at her lap at the envelope that Mercedes held out. “It says private and confidential.”  
  
Quinn reached for Mercedes’ outstretched hand and opened the envelope to find a folded letter on canary yellow paper.     
  
 _Aw my favorite color_ , she thought.     
  
Her eyes darted across the sentences, puzzlement clear on her face as she tried to piece together the purpose of the letter.    
  
“What is it?” Mercedes asked. “I didn’t get one of those in my locker.”  
  
“It looks like a...survey? A quiz? I don’t know. Here, let me read,” Quinn held the paper between her fingers and began to read.  
  
“ ‘Dear McKinley High Student, you have been selected at random to participate in a survey of the average teenager’s music knowledge.  Read the lyrics below and fill in the blanks with the missing words. Please do not cheat by using the Internet, itunes, or asking peers. When completed, please return to locker # 1576 by the teacher’s lounge. Good luck!’ and then it goes on to list a bunch of songs,” Quinn stated and handed the paper back to Mercedes.    
  
Mercedes’ face twisted into a smirk when she observed the songs and artists on the survey.  
  
“Kanye West? Akon? Eminem? Good luck, Quinn, you’re gonna need it. I should’ve gotten this quiz, at least I can handle the MJ and Stevie Wonder.”  
  
Quinn shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Mercedes. “You want it? Be my guest. It didn’t address me personally. I’m sure the surveyor doesn’t care _who_ fills out the survey.”  
  
Mercedes smiled and pocketed the letter.  
  
“Sounds good to me. Come on, we’re gonna be late for Glee.”  
  


***

  
Artie rolled into the choir room, his heart thumping in his chest.  While he was confident his prom proposal would be _just_ the sort of gesture that would appeal to Quinn, many doubts still ran through his mind. What if he got the wrong locker (even though he had accompanied her there many times)? What if she threw it out without reading? He shook himself out of his daydream and turned to greet Puck, who sat next to him.  
  
“Nice of you to show up for Glee, at least,” he teased. Puck scoffed and rolled his eyes.  
  
“I’m not a sucker like you, I’d _never_ go to a class with a sub. Especially math. Fuck that,” he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.  
  
Artie opened his mouth to make a quip regarding Puck’s math skills, but abruptly closed it when he noticed Mercedes push Quinn into the room from the corner of his eye.  The girls, engrossed in chatter, sat at the other end of the row across the choir room; Mercedes’ giggles engulfed the room.    
  
Puck nudged Artie’s arm -- “Hey man, you’ll never guess what happened to me last night!” -- and began to recount the events in which he met and fooled around with sisters. Or were they twins?  Artie couldn’t force himself to pay attention; he just politely smiled to appease Puck as his mind wandered, occasionally supplying a gasp of shock or amusement for effect.  Instead he was worrying whether or not Quinn had received his proposal, sneaking quick glances at her whenever he could.  
  
Just as Puck was about to divulge the most graphic details of his sordid affair, Artie overheard Mercedes saying something about a survey then asking for a pen. He turned his head to see, not Quinn, but Mercedes pulling the folded yellow paper from her pocket and grabbing a pen from Quinn. She unfolded and smoothed the sheet; Quinn peered over her shoulder, her finger poised at the first sentence, tracing the words as she read.    
  
 _Oh goddamn it, Mercedes, what the hell?_ Artie felt his palms clam up, his heart thumping even faster than before.  Thinking quickly, he wheeled away from Puck -- who was in mid sentence -- and skidded to a stop in front of Mercedes.  
  
“Waddup girl. Hey Quinn,” he flashed her a quick smile and turned back to Mercedes. “So, I’m writing this essay for English and it’s so terrible. Wanna help me out with it? I know you’re great at essays and...”     
  
Artie continued to babble some pathetic yet fictitious story in the hopes of distracting Mercedes from filling out the survey.  He knew he couldn’t stop her from completing it forever; he just needed to buy some time to save him the embarrassment of Quinn discovering it was a prom proposal while he was still in the room with her.  
  
Mercedes and Quinn exchanged confused looks as they watched Artie trip and stumble over his words.     
  
“O-Ok, Artie, I’ll help you, God,” interrupted Mercedes. She held her hands out in front of him in surrender as Quinn giggled.  Artie blushed as Quinn’s laugh reverberated in his mind.  
 __  
Fuck, I need to keep distracting her. Artie mulled over various stories to tell when he heard Mr. Schuester’s voice from behind him, sparing him any further embarrassment.  
  


***

  
Quinn sat at the kitchen table, her pen gritted between her teeth in concentration.  She was focused on solving her last chemistry problem, when her phone started to vibrate against the textbook. She picked it up and noticed Mercedes was calling her.     
  
“Hey ‘Cedes, what’s up?” she asked.     
  
“Quinn, you will NOT believe this. Girl, that wasn’t a music survey, it was a prom proposal meant for you!” Mercedes shrieked.    
  
Quinn felt her heart catch in her chest and croaked out, “Excuse me? What did you say?”  
  
“You heard me. I filled out the survey and at the end, it asks if you want another survey by circling yes or no which _basically_ is, like, accepting the proposal. What cha gunna say?”  
  
Quinn furrowed her brow. “Hold on, Mercedes. How do you know this is someone asking me to prom?”  
  
Mercedes sighed with frustration. “ _Because_ , when I filled in the missing words to the songs, I read them out loud all together and it spells out a message.  It says, ‘Hey pretty baby, you’re so damn beautiful. You’re gunna be my Prom Queen. I wanna get with you tonight but I cannot, so let me love you next Friday night?’ The songs are so cheesy, too, I laughed so hard when I read it. Oh my God, Quinn what are you gunna do?” Mercedes’ excitable tone filled Quinn's ear.  
  
Quinn brushed the hair out of her face as she bit on her bottom lip in thought.  While this letter was very forward -- _and offensive_ , she thought --, she couldn’t help but smile that someone at McKinley went out of their way to do something nice for _her_ ; poor wheelchair-bound Quinn Fabray.  
  
She hesitated, still chewing the pen cap.  After a couple moments, Quinn said confidently, “Mercedes, circle yes.”  
  


***

  
The warning bell for homeroom rang throughout the McKinley; students shut lockers and sauntered off to class leaving Artie alone in the hall. He dialed the combination and couldn’t help himself when waves of dizziness flooded over him when he noticed tucked into the crease of the locker was a folded and slightly crumpled piece of yellow paper.  
  
Artie unfolded the letter, his eyes scanning to the last question.  In blue ink, a heart circled over “Yes”.  
  
G _odamnit woman_ , he thought, knowing full well Mercedes was the girl who circled the answer and not Quinn.  
  
He crumpled up the paper and threw it back in his locker in defeat. Artie rolled down the hall towards first period, his heart sinking deeper with every turn of his wheels.  
  
“So you got a date?” called a voice from behind.    
  
Artie wheeled around and noticed Mercedes striding down the hall, her hands clutching the strap of her messenger bag.     
  
“What’re you talking about?” he questioned  
  
Mercedes laughed as a coy smile spread across her face.  
  
“Don’t play dumb with me, you know what I’m talking about.” She stopped in front of him and folded her arms across her chest.  
  
“I know you wrote that prom proposal for Quinn. It was kind of obvious, actually.”  
  
Artie remained silent for a second then asked, “How’d you figure it out?”    
  
With a laugh, Mercedes lightly smacked Artie’ shoulder.  
  
“The songs, mostly. I’ve known you for years, Artie, _meaning_ I know the kinds of artists you listen to. Besides, I kinda figured when I went to the locker number on the letter and it was yours.”  
  
 _Duh._  
  
He let out the breath he was holding in and smiled.  
  
“Ah, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best idea. It doesn’t matter, though, because you ended up with the survey and not Quinn.”  
  
Artie pouted ever so slightly and stared up at Mercedes. He was surprised when she looked at him, not with sympathy, but with excitement gleaming in her eyes.     
  
“Uh, she knows. Well, she doesn’t know it was you, but I called her last night and told her it was probably a prom proposal.”     
  
Mercedes paused and quirked her head when she noticed that rather than returning her excitement, Artie looked startled .    
  
“Hey, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be excited about this! She said yes; didn’t you see the heart?”  
  
“Yeah I saw. It’s just. It’s real now,” Artie grinned.  
  
He reached around to his backpack, fished out a binder, and handed Mercedes a sheet of the canary yellow paper.   “Can you put this in her locker for me?”  
  
Mercedes’ eyes flitted across the page, reading his new letter, and smirked at him. She reached forward and pulled him into a one armed hug.  
  
“Sure thing. Boy, looks like you’re going to prom.”  
  


***

  
_Why would they ask me to meet them here?_  
  
As per the letter’s instructions, Quinn rolled to the south side of McKinley at 3pm sharp.  The only note worthy thing on this side of the school was that it contained the steepest accessibility ramp in all of Lima -- she remembered how Artie had told her that once.    
  
 _Is this some kind of sick joke?_ she wondered as she looked around.   
  
The courtyard around her was deserted save for a few lingering students, all of whom Quinn knew did not want to be her prom date.    Quinn was about leave after waiting 10 minutes when she heard a small voice behind her.     
  
“Wait! Don’t go.”   She wheeled around and saw Artie behind her, his hands folded in his lap.   
  
She raised her eyebrows in confusion and wheeled closer to him.     
  
“Artie? What are you doing here?”    As soon as she saw the redness color his cheeks, Quinn had her answer. A shy smile crawled across her face as she remembered the wording of the prom proposal.  
  
“Artie,” she murmured, “This was from you?”     
  
“I, uh, yeah. I’ve always thought you were pretty, Quinn, everyone thinks that. They’d be stupid not to. But, that’s not all that you are, and spending more time with you since your accident helped me realized this. I mean, I always wanted to get closer with you, but helping you through this difficult time in your life has shown me the softer side of Quinn Fabray.”     
  
He waited as she giggled at his words. Artie looked fondly at her and smiled.     
  
“I asked you to come here because this is where I realized I wanted to take you to prom. I was so proud of you for pushing through and conquering this ramp that I decided I needed to show people _this_ Quinn, the brave and tenacious Quinn. I just wanna show everyone how proud I am of you.”  
  
Artie, feeling breathless, finished and looked up at Quinn.  She stared at him with such a fondness that he felt a shudder through his body.   
  
She rolled in front of him so that her wheels slightly clunked against his.  
  
“Artie,” she said as she grabbed his hand, “That is seriously one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said. Also, your proposal was very cute, even though a bit tacky,” she teased.   
  
She looked up at him as a warm smile played across her lips.  
  
“I hope you own a beautiful canary yellow tie,” Quinn said matter of factually. “Prom dates need to match.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback appreciated!


End file.
